behind them, and I mean to know who it is. I just wish you hadn't killed these two. It makes things...difficult.'
Rampton scratched his head. 'I thought I was doing you a favour.'
Winterburne shook his head, looking around him, trying to get an idea of where the men were lying. 'How am I going to explain this?'
Rampton shrugged his shoulders. 'Just say that you were attacked, or something like that. It's not exactly a lie.'
'And you think they're going to believe that?'
Rampton smirked. 'They would if you had injuries.'
'What?'
'Injuries.' Rampton smiled. 'A few cuts, a few bruises.'
Winterburne sighed and closed his eyes, realising what Rampton was meaning. 'You are joking aren't you?'
Rampton shook his head, still smiling. He had already rolled up one of his sleeves and was busy starting on the other.
'I can't believe this,' Winterburne said.
'Well, if you can think of a better way.'
Winterburne sighed, but he knew the man was right and they had very little option. 'Alright then,' he said, 'but just make sure you don't break my nose again.'
oOo
'You what?'
Conn hadn't exactly raised his voice but Winterburne had been left in no doubt that he was not happy. 'As I said, we were attacked without warning,' he said. 'I was lucky to escape with my life.'
'How many men were there?'
Conn threw a towel over to Winterburne and he held it against his cut face.
'There were at least three, I don't know for sure. Maybe five.'
Winterburne looked Conn in the eye. Liars avoid eye contact, he told himself. He pressed the towel on the worst of the cuts, and then removed it. A fresh blood stain marked the worst of the damage and he placed it back against his face.
'They jumped us as we searched in the forest,' he added.
'In the forest! What in blazes were you doing in there in the first place?'
'We heard someone in there. My first thought was that it was the same person that I saw on the plains, and then again when I was on patrol.'
Conn shook his head. 'This is bad. We ain't lost any men for ages.'
'I hoped that the others had come back on their own. The horses were released and scared off but I managed to get mine back. I thought maybe that the others had done the same.'
'You've not covered yourself in glory with this, Smyth.'
'I know.'
'Is that all you can say? We need every man we can get where we are going and to lose two of the men is not going to go down well.'
'I liked those two,' Winterburne said, and inside he meant it.
'The rest'll see you as bad luck, now. You do realise that, don't you?'
Winterburne still pressed the towel onto the cuts on his face, then turned his attention to the deep gash on his arm.
'Oh well,' Conn said, 'I suppose what's done is done and it cannot be changed now for all the shouting and raging.' He glanced over at Winterburne with a look of thunder on his face. 'I suppose there'll be other chances for you to redeem yourself, I'm sure.'
Winterburne remained silent.
Conn put his hands on his sides, looking at him tending to his injuries. 'Go on,' he said, after a few moments, 'go and get yourself cleaned up. I need some time to think.'
32
The Tenth Day of Lo-autumn,
Imperial Year 2332
Four days after Winterburne's meeting with Rampton, Conn's group had joined up with the men controlled by Spen and they had continued on as one large group. After that, the days stretched into a week, one week into two, and throughout the whole time of their journey Winterburne kept his head down as much as it was possible, doing just enough to keep on top of what he needed to do to play along.
Winterburne was now convinced that the cook, Verkade, held a much higher status in the gang than he had first admitted. He had seen Conn in deep conversation with the man many times and having watched them closely he now believed that there was a regular information flow back to Conn. It was true that on the whole he had got on well with Verkade but Winterburne wondered whether Conn had sent him purposely, trying to find out about the man that had washed up on the banks of the far away river and still, he assumed, in their mind a bit of a mystery.
The cook seemed to sense that Winterburne was thinking about him and appeared from behind him, choosing that moment to start a conversation.
'He's not mad with you, Smythie.' Verkade said, drawing his mount next to Winterburne's. 'He understands that things happen that are out of a man's control sometimes. Be assured that he still has plans for you.'
'It doesn't seem like that,' Winterburne replied. 'It feels like I've been pushed away to one side, to keep me from causing any more trouble.'
'He's just got a lot on his mind.'
Winterburne wondered whether the touch of understanding and sympathy that Verkade had just offered might provide him with a chink through which to ask a more leading question but he thought he would try.
'Do you actually know what we'll have to do when we get to White Haven?' he asked.
'Not really.' Verkade shook his head. 'I ain't told you this,' he said, looking around him to make sure that there was no one close, 'but even he doesn't know the details yet. "We'll find out when we get there", is all he says to me.'
'I see.'
'Apparently, he's meeting the Hood outside the city to get the details of the plan. Then we'll find out.'
At last, after all these days, Winterburne might finally get to find out more about this man that everyone called The Hood.
'Have you been there before?' he asked.
'Where?' Verkade answered, 'White Haven?'
Winterburne nodded.
'No.'
'I hear it's beautiful.'
'S'posed to be,' Verkade said. 'They call it the City of Towers, where the streets are always sparkling clean and the roads are paved with gold. Least that's what they say.' He chuckled. 'Load of crap if you ask me.' He looked over at Winterburne. 'You can clean the streets, you can paint the houses, but, Smythie, when all is said and done, a shit-hole is still a shit-hole.'
'Got to be better than Highport.' Winterburne decided to chance his luck a little and offer out a bit of line to see if Verkade would take it. 'I lived there for a while.'
'Did you?' Verkade sounded surprised. 'You ain't mentioned that before. What's it like?'
'It's like living inside on old man's underpants,' he said, and both men laughed.
'That bad, eh?' The smile subsided and Verkade's face became serious for a moment. He nodded backwards, behind the two of them. 'Do you still think we're being followed?'
'I know it,' Winterburne replied. 'There's no doubt. The signs are there if you know what to look for.'
Verkade glanced nervously back along the track. 'I'm glad we left the main road at last. Conn told me that the scouts reported another troop of the Queen's soldiers making their way to the pass. That's the third in a week. He didn't say how many men there was but sure as eggs is eggs we could do without coming up against them.'
'Well for what it's worth, it's not the Queen's men following us.' Winterburne made sure that he sounded confident.
'What makes you say that?'
'I just know it. The men I faced weren't the Queen's soldiers.' Just enough to let the line out, Winterburne told himself, just enough to string them along.
Verkade was still watching the track as it stretched out behind them.
'It's building isn't it?' Winterburne said. 'I can feel it.'
'What is?'
'The tension. It feels like the whole world is readying for a fight.'
Verkade nodded. 'I can tell that the men feel it too. They've been quieter these last couple of days.'
A flock of birds took off from the long grass a mile or so behind them as they watched, bunching together and circling as they rose into the sky before dispersing.
'They're still out there,' Wi
nterburne said. 'Something's just scared those birds and I don't mind betting I know what it was.'
'I'll tell Conn,' Verkade said. 'He'll want to increase the guards again.'
'Make sure he keeps the groups large and doesn't split them up.'
Verkade laughed. 'I think the man is quite capable of making his own decisions, don't you?'
'I'm sorry,' Winterburne replied, 'natural instinct. 'Specially after facing them down and coming off the worse for wear.' He could still feel the blows that Rampton had inflicted on him. He felt sure that the man had enjoyed it as well.
'I'll tell him your suggestion.' Verkade made to ride away, up towards the front of the column.
'Before you go,' Winterburne said.
Verkade looked back. 'What my friend?'
'Do you have any idea when we're due get to White Haven?' Winterburne shifted in the saddle. 'My backside in numb, and I'm getting sick of this riding.'
'With a fair wind it should be sometime late afternoon,' Verkade replied, and slapped his horse with its reins.
Winterburne sighed as he watched the man canter off towards Conn. The City of Towers, eh? he thought to himself. Perhaps now, after all this time, we finally get to find out what all this is really about.
oOo
They had come across the West Gate of White Haven City just after midday and the walls were now clearly visible beyond the edge of the trees. The city lay on the other side of the fast flowing River Nilis, over the wide white-stone bridge that straddled the river on three columns, each with a couple of dozen yards between them. Conn ordered the men to stop and dismount, and then he rode across to Winterburne as he climbed down from his own horse. Spen followed him over, but there was a look of displeasure on the face of Conn's second.
'Smyth!' Conn called.
Winterburne looked up as the two men rode towards him.
'I'm splitting the men into two groups,' Conn said. 'Spen, take your half and draw them back beyond the trees.' He waved across in the direction that they had come. 'Not too far though, Joachem, I need you close, just in case.'
Spen nodded.
'Take the rest, Smyth. You're coming with me.'
Winterburne noticed that Spen had looked at him with an expression that did little to hide how much he disliked him. They had barely said two words to each other throughout the whole of the journey, but that was exactly the way Winterburne liked it and he didn't plan on changing things any time soon.
As the two groups of men split into their respective teams, Winterburne mustered his command beneath the edge of the leafy canopy. Spen pulled his men back further as he took them away.
Conn walked his horse across to Winterburne and then looked back towards the road out of the city. 'He'll be here soon,' Conn said. 'He's coming out to meet us.'
'The Hood?'
Conn nodded. 'He's quite a character. He has big ideas, as you will soon find out.'
Winterburne remained silent as he looked out from the trees, along the line of the road that ran across the bridge and then on across the grassland and through the wall, into the city. People came and went, just as they did in Highport and most likely, he thought, they had almost the same day to day routine, and to be honest, in his own experience wherever you went people were the same the world over.
As he watched, a rider left the road and pointed his mount in their direction. A brown horse, its rider dressed in dark clothing came ever closer, a hood covering his head, straight-backed and an accomplished rider, evidently. Winterburne frowned. There was something oddly familiar about the man although from this distance he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Conn fidgeted in his saddle and leaned across to Winterburne. 'The Hood,' he said.
'Does he always cover his face like that?'
'Not always,' Conn replied. 'But between you and me, I think he does it for effect most of the time rather than any need to hide his identity. I wouldn't say that to his face, though.'
Winterburne watched as the man approached, and he kicked into his horse and the beast sped up, and, as the rider bounced in his seat his hood fell from his head showing the face of the man that Conn had labelled as the Hood.
Lord in Heaven! Stunned, Winterburne looked at the face of the man approaching fast across the grassland. It was Courtenay! Somehow, he managed to regain his composure, but there was no way that he could allow himself to be seen by the man, he would recognise him instantly.
'I'll marshal the men,' he said, thinking quickly and turning his horse away from the approaching horseman, scooting away as quickly as he could.
oOo
'We got here in the end,' Conn said, as the Hood pulled up his horse.
The man's face was thinner than he remembered, and his steel-grey eyes looked across towards the rest of the gang, weighing them up.
'You took your time.' Courtenay said, looking back to Conn after a moment.
'It's a long road,' Conn replied, 'as you well know, having travelled it yourself but recently. Even longer when you have all these mouths to feed.'
Courtenay waved his hand towards the first group of riders. 'Is that all you've brought?' he asked. 'They look a wiry bunch. Are you sure they're up to the job?'
'There're enough,' Conn replied. 'And yes, I'm sure they are up to the job.'
'They had better be. If this goes wrong it'll be both our heads on a spike.'
Conn couldn't help thinking that the man was less friendly than he had been back in the encampment in the hills. The Hood usually did not show it, but he supposed he must be under a lot of pressure, this time.
'So, are you going to tell me why you dragged us all the way here?' he said.
'Patience.' Courtenay looked around him, searching for something. 'Where can we talk?'
'I reckon we'll be alright if we talk and ride. In any event I trust all my men.'
'I'm sure you do.' Courtenay watched Conn closely as they rode away from the main group of men. 'You'll need to.'
'Is it that big a job?'
'There's none bigger.' Courtenay's face lit up, and he grinned. 'Let's play a little game.'
Conn frowned. The Hood scared him when he was in one of these moods. The man could be a little unstable on occasion, well, weren't all geniuses, he thought, but he had learned to just go with it. The rewards to date were certainly worth it.
'Close your eyes,' Courtenay said, giving Conn just enough time to comply. 'I want you to imagine a job so big that it's bigger than all those you've had to do so far. Can you do that?'
'I guess.'
'Are you imagining it now?' Courtenay stared at Conn.
Conn frowned.
'Do it,' Courtenay said.
Conn closed his eyes. He knew better than to argue with his benefactor. 'I'm doing it,' he said, waiting as the man sitting opposite him remained silent for a few moments.
'Now, open your eyes,' Courtenay said, his face beaming.
Conn smiled.
'So did you imagine something,' Courtenay asked.
'Yes.'
'Whatever you imagined, it's bigger than that.'
'I can imagine a lot.'
'Not this you can't.'
Conn smiled again. He had always thought that the Hood was unhinged to some degree but here was the ultimate proof.
'You'll have to divide your men into three teams,' Courtenay said. 'Can you do that?'
'Of course. I can take one, Spen the other.' He thought about Smyth and what he had done for the group so far. It was his turn to step up a level, he thought. 'I have someone in mind for the third team,' he said.
'Good,' Courtenay said, 'but I didn't know Verkade was up to commanding these days.'
'It's not Verkade.'
Courtenay looked surprised. 'Then who?'
'A new man. He's been with us for a couple of months.'
'Have I met him?' Courtenay asked.
Conn shook his head. 'His name is Smyth.' He smiled. 'He's bright, and he's led men before. You'll like him.
'
'Then I'll look forward to meeting him, soon. I like to know who it is that I'm trusting my future to.'
'He's gone to sort out the men.'
Courtenay nodded.
'We can see him on the way back, if you wish.'
'Not this day,' Courtenay said. 'I cannot stay long or else I will be missed in the Palace.'
'As you wish,' Conn replied. 'So do you want to tell me why I'm here, or shall I continue to imagine.'
Courtenay smiled and looked around him. 'Conn my friend, how would you like to be written into the pages of history for all to speak of for eternity.'
'Now you are beginning to frighten me,' Conn replied. 'Is this thing really that big?'
Courtenay nodded. 'I told you, it's bigger than that.'
Conn felt himself begin to sweat and he raised the back of his hand to his forehead to wipe away the moisture. He looked at Courtenay, he was cool in his saddle. The man had always displayed an air of confidence whenever he had met up with him but today, well, this was something entirely different.
'So are you ready to hear the plan?' Courtenay asked.
'I can't wait.'
'History is written by the victors, my friend.' Courtenay grinned from ear to ear, and he leaned across to Conn placing his hand on his shoulder. 'And, it is very possible,' he said, 'that when the history of this land is written for future generations to read, that you will be forever known as The King-Maker.'
Conn frowned, puzzled.
'Ride with me,' Courtenay said, 'and we'll talk.'
oOo
Winterburne looked back over his shoulder towards the two men, deep in discussion on the other side of the clearing. Conn was smiling at Courtenay as they talked, so whatever it was they were discussing it must have amused him. He could still hardly believe that the man that had been so close to killing the Emperor, and then getting away after a chase through the streets of Highport, might still have the ability to pull together some sort of plan which could affect the whole of the continent.
How could any of this still only be about New Brunswick? Courtenay's explanation of his plans all that time ago, given when confronted in the Emperor's own quarters was clear, but that was miles away. Then afterwards, Frederick had been convinced that Queen Ysabel had no intention of moving to a war stance and that made the man's appearance here even more bizarre. And yet, the evidence was all around him of a greater momentum towards whatever it was that drove Courtenay on. He was a whirlpool dragging the ocean of events closer to him by the hour.
As he watched, the two men separated and Courtenay kicked into his horse driving it towards the bridge that led back across the Nilis towards the city. Conn turned his own beast and walked it back towards where Winterburne waited. Spen must have seen Conn returning and he appeared from the stand of oaks on his own mount.
Winterburne joined them, eagerly anticipating what Conn was going to say. If the smile on his face was any indication of what he knew then the man must consider it worth waiting for.
'There is no doubt in my mind,' Conn said, as he drew near, 'that the Hood is either completely mad, and therefore needs locking away, or he is a genius. Even after all this time I am yet to decide which of those two he truly is.'
'Why do you say that?' Spen scratched his head.
Winterburne stopped himself from adding to the conversation. After all, he knew exactly what Courtenay was capable of.
Conn still grinned. 'Well, all I can say for now is that tomorrow night is going to be something worth seeing.'
'What is it that we have to do?' Spen